[Two Years Later]

The mountain no longer felt new.

It felt claimed.

A foot came down—

Soft.

Jade did not resist.

It received.

Faint marks traced across the courtyard—thin, overlapping impressions layered over time. Not damage. Not decay.

Use.

Repetition.

Discipline pressed into stone.

Morning mist lingered low along the terraces, drifting between pillars and curling across the edges of the training grounds. It no longer hid the sect.

It moved around it.

As if it had learned the paths already carved by footsteps.

Through the pale haze—

Steel moved.

Yan Chen stepped forward.

His foot settled cleanly.

Weight dropped.

Spine aligned.

His breath flowed—not forced, not measured aloud—just… steady.

The blade rose.

Then cut.

A sharp arc tore through the air.

Clean.

Controlled.

Complete.

CLANG.

The strike met resistance.

Held.

Lu Fang blade pressed against his.

Not breaking.

Not redirecting.

Testing.

For a brief moment—

They stood connected.

Force against force.

Balance against balance.

Then—

A shift.

Subtle.

Almost invisible.

Yan Chen 's wrist adjusted.

His stance lowered half an inch.

His center anchored.

The pressure snapped.

Lu Fang stepped back.

Silence followed.

Behind them, the courtyard no longer carried the stillness of a newly built sect.

It moved with rhythm.

A spear struck the ground with a dull thud—

Lifted—

Spun—

Caught again mid-air.

Shen Hang pivoted, foot sliding across jade that had long since memorized such motion.

Nearby, Sheng Lu tightened the cloth around his forearm without looking, fingers working automatically before his body shifted back into stance.

No hesitation.

No wasted movement.

At the far end—

Two figures exchanged blows.

CLACK.

CLACK.

CLACK.

Measured.

Precise.

Each strike stopped just short of impact.

Each defense arrived just before failure.

They were not testing strength.

They were refining control.

The rhythm carried across the courtyard, no longer scattered.

Unified.

A breeze moved through the sect.

It carried something new.

Elsewhere—

Deep within the mountain—

The Gravitational Training Chamber breathed like a living beast.

The lower floors pulsed with steady pressure.

On the first—

Disciples stood firm, feet planted wide as invisible force pressed against their shoulders.

Sweat rolled down their temples as they held their stances, backs straight, refusing to bow.

On the second—

Movement slowed. Every step dragged. Muscles trembled under the weight as they forced themselves forward, inch by inch, jaws clenched.

On the third—

Some had already dropped to one knee.

Hands braced against the ground.

Breathing rough.

But no one left.

Higher—

The air changed.

By the sixth floor—

It no longer felt like pressure.

It felt like the world itself had decided to fall.

The space warped slightly.

Light bent.

Sound dulled.

64 times gravity.

The floor did not crack.

But everything on it bent toward it.

Wang Tian stood there.

Barely.

His knees were bent, legs trembling under the crushing force.

Veins stood out along his neck, sweat pouring down his face, soaking into his collar.

His shoulders dipped—

Then forced themselves back up.

Across from him—

Luo Chen stood the same.

Spine straight.

Barely.

His breathing was controlled—but heavy.

Each inhale dragged.

Each exhale burned.

Their clothes clung to their bodies, drenched in sweat.

The air between them felt thick.

Heavy.

Neither moved.

Then—

Wang Tian grinned.

"…You know…"

His voice came out strained.

"…this is usually where people start regretting their life choices."

Luo Chen's lips curved slightly.

"…Then it's good we're not people like that."

A faint tremor ran through Wang Tian's leg.

He ignored it.

"Accept defeat now—"

He forced his back straighter.

Muscles tightening under the pressure.

"or you're going to crush your own bones."

Luo Chen let out a low breath.

Almost a laugh.

"…You first."

Their eyes locked.

The air tightened.

Then—

Both moved.

A step forward.

The floor did not change.

But their bodies reacted like they were pushing through a collapsing mountain.

Wang Tian's foot slammed down.

Slow.

Heavy.

Luo Chen mirrored him.

They closed the distance.

No flashy techniques.

No wasted motion.

Just—

A punch.

Wang Tian's fist drove forward.

It didn't cut through the air.

It crawled through it.

Every inch resisted.

Every movement demanded strength.

Luo Chen's arm rose.

Intercepted.

The impact—

THUD.

The sound didn't echo.

It sank.

Their arms shook.

Not from fear.

From force.

Wang Tian pushed.

Luo Chen resisted.

The ground beneath them didn't crack.

But their bodies strained like they might.

Then—

Both grinned.

"…This is good."

"…Yeah."

Neither stepped back.

Not here.

Not like this.

And the pressure—

Kept pressing.

Elsewhere—

The Body Training Hall thundered.

The moment one stepped inside—

The air shifted.

A low hum vibrated through the jade walls.

Not loud.

But constant.

Disciples stood in formation across the wide hall.

Feet grounded.

Arms raised.

Bodies tense.

Then—

The mechanisms moved.

Panels along the walls slid open.

Click.

From within—

Arms extended.

Not human.

Not mechanical in the usual sense.

Constructs.

Forged from reinforced jade and embedded formation cores.

They locked into position—

Facing the disciples.

A beat of silence.

Then—

They struck.

THUD.

A fist slammed into a disciple's abdomen.

He didn't fly back.

He absorbed it.

His body bent—

Then forced itself upright again.

Another strike came.

Faster.

From the side—

WHAM.

His ribs took the hit.

A sharp exhale burst from his lungs.

He didn't fall.

Nearby—

Another disciple took a direct blow to the shoulder.

The sound echoed through the hall—

Bone meeting reinforced force.

His teeth clenched.

Muscles tightened.

He stayed standing.

The constructs didn't stop.

They moved in patterns.

Not random.

Not chaotic.

Relentless.

Front.

Side.

Back.

Each strike landed with precision.

Each one measured.

Enough to break—

But not destroy.

The disciples adapted.

Arms shifted.

Bodies angled.

Muscles hardened.

Skin reddened.

Bruises formed.

Then deepened.

But beneath that—

Something changed.

Impact after impact—

Their bodies stopped reacting like flesh.

They endured.

A disciple staggered—

Nearly dropped—

A fist came again—

He met it.

Absorbed it.

And didn't move.

Across the hall—

The rhythm built.

THUD.

WHAM.

CRACK.

Not of breaking—

Of forging.

From the northern terraces, hands worked carefully among rows of medicinal plants that had fully taken root over time.

Leaves no longer trembled uncertainly in new soil.

They stood firm.

Alive.

A stem was cut cleanly.

Another adjusted.

Roots pressed gently back into place.

"Not that one."

Elder Hua's voice came without urgency.

"That root hasn't settled yet."

The younger disciple's hand stopped instantly.

Hovered.

Then withdrew.

No embarrassment.

No panic.

Only understanding.

[Present — Late Morning]

A sharp crack split the air.

CLANG.

"Too wide."

Chen Fang blade redirected a strike mid-motion.

The Wie Lu stumbled forward, barely recovering his balance.

"Again."

No anger.

No frustration.

Just expectation.

The courtyard had settled into its usual rhythm.

Steel clashed in controlled intervals. Footsteps echoed across jade. Voices rose and fell in measured exchanges of instruction.

Order.

Routine.

Which made it the perfect place for chaos.

Near the edge of the courtyard—

Xiao Rui crouched behind a low jade pillar, one eye peeking out.

Lee Bie lay flat beside him, chin resting on his arms.

Zong Bu stood slightly behind, arms crossed, trying—and failing—to look serious.

Sheng Lu leaned against the pillar, already biting his sleeve to stop his laughter.

"…Target acquired," Xiao Rui whispered.

Across the courtyard—

A young disciple approached carefully, holding a wooden tray.

On it—

Freshly prepared spirit buns.

Still steaming.

His steps were cautious.

Focused.

Protective.

"…He doesn't know," Lee Bie murmured.

"…He never does," Sheng Lu added.

Zong Bu shook his head slowly.

"…Tragic."

The disciple took another step.

Then—

His foot hit something.

A thin thread.

Barely visible.

Stretched across the path.

SNAP.

His balance vanished.

The tray flew upward.

"…NO—!"

Too late.

The buns scattered mid-air.

And before they hit the ground—

A blur moved.

Xiao Rui.

He flashed forward, catching two buns mid-flight.

Lee Bie rolled across the ground, snatching another before it touched the jade.

Sheng Lu grabbed one out of the air—

And Zong Bu—

Missed.

"…Unacceptable."

He bent down and picked one from the ground anyway.

Blew on it.

"…Still edible."

The fallen disciple stared.

Frozen.

"…My buns…"

Xiao Rui took a bite.

Calm.

Unbothered.

"…Were excellent."

Sheng Lu nodded seriously while chewing.

"…High quality."

Lee Bie gave a thumbs up.

The disciple's face trembled.

"…THOSE WERE FOR ELDER LIYA—!"

The four froze.

Pause.

"…Run."

They vanished.

Moments later—

Another disciple walked along the corridor near the Disciplinary Hall.

Confident.

Unbothered.

He turned the corner—

And froze.

A figure stood there.

Still.

Silent.

Long hair.

White robes.

Head lowered.

Face unseen.

The air felt colder.

"…W-who's there…?"

No response.

The figure tilted its head.

Slowly.

The disciple stepped back.

"…This isn't funny…"

The figure lifted its face—

A pale mask.

Dark hollow eyes.

"…GHOST—!"

The disciple turned—

Ran—

Slipped—

Crushed into the wall—

And scrambled away like his life depended on it.

The "ghost" didn't move.

Then—

The mask tilted slightly.

"…That worked too well."

Sheng Lu lifted the mask, revealing his face.

Grinning.

From above—

Lee Bie dropped down from the roof.

"…You scared him into another cultivation realm."

"…I'm talented."

Not far away—

A training dummy stood in the center of a small open space.

A disciple approached it.

Focused.

He took stance.

Raised his fist—

The dummy didn't move.

Good.

He punched.

The moment his fist connected—

CLICK.

The dummy rotated.

WHAM.

A hidden mechanism inside activated.

A jade arm shot out—

And punched him straight in the face.

"…WHAT—?!"

He staggered backward.

From behind the wall—

Zong Bu lowered the lever.

"…Improved reaction training."

Xiao Rui nodded.

"…We're helping."

At the far end—

Several previously pranked disciples gathered.

Bruised.

Annoyed.

Covered in dust.

"…That's the third time."

"…They stole my lunch."

"…They summoned a ghost!"

"…I got punched by a dummy!"

A pause.

"…We report them."

All nodded.

Meanwhile—

Behind the Main Hall—

The noise of training didn't reach here the same way.

It softened.

Faded into something distant.

A low stone ledge curved along the back terrace, half-hidden beneath the shadow of the hall's towering structure.

The jade here was cooler, untouched by direct sunlight, carrying only the faint warmth of lingering energy.

Four figures occupied it.

Sheng Lu leaned back first.

Then laughed.

Not controlled.

Not held back.

It broke out of him in bursts, shoulders shaking as he wiped at the corner of his eyes.

"…Did you see his expression?"

Lee Bie had already given up on sitting properly.

He lay flat on the jade, one arm over his stomach, the other pointing weakly upward as if replaying the moment in the air.

"…He looked at the dummy like it betrayed his ancestors…"

Zong Bu sat cross-legged, posture straight—but the slight tremor at the corner of his lips gave him away.

"…That pause…"

He exhaled slowly.

"…that one second where he believed it wouldn't hit him."

That was enough.

Sheng Lu broke again.

Xiao Rui didn't laugh immediately.

He sat slightly apart, one knee raised, elbow resting casually against it.

Watching them.

Then—

A slow smile curved across his face.

"…Timing."

He spoke quietly.

Measured.

The others glanced at him.

"…You can't rush that kind of moment."

Lee Bie pushed himself up slightly, still grinning.

"…Of course, Great Master Xiao."

Zong Bu nodded.

"…A masterclass."

Sheng Lu placed a hand over his chest.

"…We are witnessing greatness."

The four fell into laughter again—

Not loud enough to carry.

Just enough to fill the space around them.

Footsteps approached.

Not hurried.

Not heavy.

Measured.

They didn't stop laughing immediately.

Didn't turn right away.

"…You're all still at it."

The voice cut in.

Calm.

Flat.

That did it.

The laughter thinned.

Not gone.

Just… redirected.

They turned.

Chen Fang stood a few steps away.

Arms crossed.

Expression steady.

His gaze moved across them once.

Taking in the relaxed posture.

The complete lack of concern.

"…Training ended an hour ago."

He added.

No accusation.

Just a statement.

A brief silence followed. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Then—

Xiao Rui tilted his head slightly.

"…And yet…"

A small pause.

"…you came here."

Lee Bie pushed himself upright now, sitting cross-legged.

"…Not to train."

Zong Bu added calmly:

"…Not to meditate."

Sheng Lu leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

"…But to find us."

The air shifted.

Just a little.

Chen Fang didn't respond immediately.

His brows drew together slightly.

"…I didn't come to—"

"…Check on us?" Xiao Rui finished for him.

Lee Bie nodded slowly.

"…Concern."

Zong Bu folded his arms.

"…Unexpected."

Sheng Lu exhaled softly.

"…Touching."

Chen Fang's expression tightened.

"…You're reading too much into it."

"…Are we?"

Xiao Rui stood.

Unhurried.

He stepped closer—not invading, not challenging—just enough to enter Chen Fang's space.

A glance. Up. Down.

Then—

A small smirk.

"…You don't come here anymore."

Simple.

Direct.

No weight behind it.

Lee Bie shifted, resting his elbow on his knee, watching Chen Fang like he'd just found something interesting.

"…Busy these days."

Zong Bu nodded slowly.

"…Very busy."

Sheng Lu tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly in mock observation.

"…Extremely busy."

Chen Fang's brow twitched.

"…Say it properly."

That was all the invitation they needed.

Xiao Rui's smirk deepened.

"…We would."

A pause.

"…but we don't want to interrupt."

Lee Bie added casually,

"…Wouldn't want to get in the way."

Zong Bu followed,

"…Of important matters."

Sheng Lu leaned back slightly, arms supporting him as he looked at the sky.

"…Very important matters."

Chen Fang exhaled sharply through his nose.

"…You four have too much free time."

"…We did," Xiao Rui replied calmly.

"…then you left."

That landed—but lightly.

No sting.

Just truth wrapped in humor.

Chen Fang clicked his tongue.

"…I didn't 'leave.'"

Lee Bie raised a brow.

"…You disappeared."

Zong Bu added,

"…Regularly."

Sheng Lu nodded.

"…Suspiciously."

Chen Fang opened his mouth—

Paused.

Closed it.

Xiao Rui caught it instantly.

"…See?"

A faint chuckle escaped him.

"…Same reaction every time."

Chen Fang shot him a look.

"…You're imagining things."

"…We're observing things," Lee Bie corrected.

Zong Bu nodded once.

"…Carefully."

Sheng Lu smiled.

"…Consistently."

A brief silence.

Then—

Xiao Rui spoke again, tone lighter this time.

"…So?"

A small pause.

"…How is our Sister in Law?"

That was it.

No buildup.

No drama.

Just clean.

Chen Fang didn't answer immediately.

His expression didn't change much—

But it shifted.

Subtle.

Real.

"…She's fine."

Short.

Controlled.

Xiao Rui's smirk widened just a fraction.

"…That's all?"

Lee Bie leaned forward slightly.

"…Cold."

Zong Bu added,

"…Very cold."

Sheng Lu sighed.

"…We expected more."

Chen Fang's patience snapped just a little.

"…What do you want me to say?"

"…Nothing," Xiao Rui replied immediately.

"…This is enough."

Chen Fang frowned.

"…You're all annoying."

"…Yes."

Xiao Rui didn't miss a beat.

"…And you still came to us."

That—

Paused him.

Just for a second.

Chen Fang looked at them again.

Not as a group.

As individuals.

Same place.

Same idiots.

Nothing had changed.

A faint breath left him.

"…You four are hopeless."

Lee Bie grinned.

"…you was one of us. Hopeless."

A pause settled over the courtyard.

Not silence—

Suspension.

The wind moved once… then stopped.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Measured.

Each step landed with quiet authority, yet somehow carried across the entire space.

The disciples turned.

One by one.

The laughter died first.

Then the whispers.

Then even the smirks.

Elder Jian Fan stood at the edge of the courtyard.

Hands behind his back.

Expression unreadable.

Still.

Behind him—

A line of disciples.

Disheveled.

Dust-covered.

Some still had flour on their robes.

One had what looked suspiciously like sauce dripping from his sleeve.

They pointed.

Not subtly.

Not with dignity.

Directly.

"…Them."

"…Those four."

"…These Single Mingle Gang Bastards."

"…Especially that one."

A finger jabbed forward.

Toward Xiao Rui.

The air grew… dangerous.

Xiao Rui blinked once.

Then slowly raised a hand.

"…Elder… I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding—"

Elder Jian Fan's gaze moved.

It passed over him.

Lee Bie.

Zong Bu.

Sheng Lu.

No change in expression.

Just—

Assessment.

Then—

His hand moved.

No warning.

No buildup.

FAST.

GRAB.

Xiao Rui's collar tightened instantly.

"…EH—?!"

Before the sound even finished—

Another hand shot out.

Lee Bie turned—

"…Retreat—!"

Too slow.

SNATCH.

Zong Bu tried to step back—

Foot barely lifted—

Caught mid-motion.

Sheng Lu actually managed one full step—

Hope flickered—

Gone.

All four—

Lifted.

Not high.

Just enough.

Feet barely touching the ground.

"…Elder—!"

"…Wait—!"

"…We can explain—!"

"…This is clearly a conspiracy—!"

Elder Jian Fan didn't raise his voice.

Didn't tighten his grip.

He simply spoke.

"…Pranking."

A beat.

"…Disrupting cultivation."

Another.

"…Stealing from the kitchen."

The last word landed.

Heavy.

All four froze.

"…We can explain that one—"

"…You cannot."

Silence.

Elder Jian Fan's grip adjusted slightly.

"…You four."

A pause.

"…Clean the entire sect."

Stillness.

Then—

"…WHAT—?!!"

Xiao Rui nearly twisted out of his own collar.

"…Elder! Cleaning is beneath our artistic dignity—!"

Lee Bie raised a hand like he was presenting a thesis.

"…We are not troublemakers—we are contributors to sect harmony!"

Zong Bu nodded rapidly.

"…Yes! Without us, the sect would fall into emotional stagnation!"

Sheng Lu added seriously,

"…We are… morale elders."

A pause.

Elder Jian Fan looked at them.

"…You are sweeping elders now."

Then—

He turned.

And walked.

Dragging them.

Not fast.

Not violently.

Just—

Inevitable.

Xiao Rui flailed.

"…THIS IS SUPPRESSION OF TALENT—!"

Lee Bie shouted,

"…We request arbitration—!"

Zong Bu cried out,

"…Where is justice in this sect—?!"

Sheng Lu declared,

"…I regret nothing—!"

Their voices echoed down the corridor.

Then—

Faded.

Silence returned.

For exactly one second.

Then—

"…Pfft—"

Chen Fang turned his head.

Too late.

"…Hahahahah—"

He didn't even try to hide it.

"…Serves them right."

He crossed his arms.

Leaning slightly.

Satisfied.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Light.

Friendly.

Deadly.

Chen Fang froze.

Very slowly—

He turned.

Elder Feng Yu stood behind him.

Smiling.

Not wide.

Not threatening.

Just…

Knowing.

"…My dear Chen Fang."

"…Elder."

"…You seem very relaxed."

"…I am merely observing sect discipline."

"…Mm."

A nod.

"…I gave you rest."

A pause.

"…To rest."

Another.

"…Not to spectate like a street vendor."

Chen Fang opened his mouth—

"Elder, I—"

GRAB.

His collar tightened.

"…Your free time is over."

"…WAIT—!"

Too late.

He was already moving.

"…I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING—!"

Dragged.

"…THIS IS UNJUST—!"

Further down the corridor—

Four voices rose.

"…THIS IS A SETUP—!"

Chen Fang's voice joined them instantly.

"…I'M INNOCENT—!"

"…WE ALL ARE—!"

"…LIARS—!"

"…UNPROVEN—!"

Their protests echoed through the sect.

And somewhere in the distance—

A door slammed open.

"…START WITH THE COURTYARD."

"…NOOOOO—!!!"

To Be Continued…